 | The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill |  |
THE LAMENT OF WALLACE AFTER THE BATTLE OF FALKIRK.
Thou dark-winding Carron, once pleasing to see,
To me thou canst never give pleasure again;
My brave Caledonians lie low on the lea,
And thy streams are deep-tinged with the blood of the slain.
To me thou canst never give pleasure again;
My brave Caledonians lie low on the lea,
And thy streams are deep-tinged with the blood of the slain.
Ah! base-hearted treachery has doomed our undoing,—
My poor bleeding country, what more can I do?
Even valour looks pale o'er the red field of ruin,
And Freedom beholds her best warriors laid low.
My poor bleeding country, what more can I do?
Even valour looks pale o'er the red field of ruin,
And Freedom beholds her best warriors laid low.
Farewell, ye dear partners of peril! farewell!
Though buried ye lie in one wide bloody grave,
Your deeds shall ennoble the place where ye fell,
And your names be enroll'd with the sons of the brave.
Though buried ye lie in one wide bloody grave,
Your deeds shall ennoble the place where ye fell,
And your names be enroll'd with the sons of the brave.
But I, a poor outcast, in exile must wander,
Perhaps, like a traitor, ignobly must die!
On thy wrongs, O my country! indignant I ponder—
Ah! woe to the hour when thy Wallace must fly!
Perhaps, like a traitor, ignobly must die!
On thy wrongs, O my country! indignant I ponder—
Ah! woe to the hour when thy Wallace must fly!
| The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill | |